Who I Once Was
by SkyeFox
Summary: A series of short glimpses into the life of a Carpathian Male who is losing his emotion and color. Probably will be sporadic updates. Reviews are wonderful for getting me to write more *hint hint*
1. Grey Streaked Skies

Taroh Waldgrave stared up at the sky, ignoring the burning on his face and the thousands of needles attacking his smoky grey eyes. The light blue of the sky was streaked with grey; long tendrils of dullness streaked across like hundreds of long spider webs drawn across the heavens. The grey was spreading slowly; the tendrils grew slightly fatter, taking more of the brilliant blue hostage.

Taroh knew that it was bad. That it should alarm him that his eyes were beginning to become blinded by the curse of their people. But somehow, he just was unable to do anything more than look up at the strangely colored sky.

Idly he wondered how much longer he had to see colors at all. He wouldn't loose them all today. It was far too gradual a loss. Taroh narrowed his eyes forcing the grey back. It receded slightly, but it took so much effort Taroh eventually let the grey return to full strength.

In the back of his mind he could hear his sister asking why he wasn't yet in the ground like he should be. Taroh's mouth curved upwards at his sister's impossible mothering instinct. She'd always been like that and he'd always found it funny. And he'd so far been able to maintain his sense of humor. Again, he couldn't help but wonder for how much longer he'd be able to hold onto it.

Taroh turned to look out at the crushing waves at the bottom of the cliff he was standing on. The white foam exploded across the rocks as the wind caught the spray and ushered it further upwards. Taroh could smell the salt from the water. A small line of sand curled off into the distance, slowly growing wider as it moved away. The beginning of the beach, he knew.

Off in the distance his keen eyes could see brightly colored umbrellas start to spring up. This was the latest he'd ever been awake, and the early beachgoers were just starting to arrive. His eyes were watering with the effort of being in the sun for so long. He closed his eyes to cut down on the burning and a few tears broke past his lashes to roll down his cheek.

He opened his eyes again to look at the umbrellas. They were so vibrant normally but they were becoming pastel to him. Sorrow clamored in his heart. He had known it would happen but there was no way to prepare himself for the harsh reality of it all. What was the saying? You never know what you have until it's gone? How horribly, horribly true it was.

It was only a matter of time before his was completely dead to the world. Already icy indifference was seeping into him. He didn't like it and he fought it, but he knew it was futile. Eventually he'll lose and then his next fight, the fight to remain honorable, began. He sighed at the daunting prospect.

_It isn't like you to be so morose, brother. _An utterly calm voice filtered into his mind on a private path, one he had not used in several years. Maxim was far older than Taroh and chose to spend most of his time in solitude. Taroh knew his brother was preparing to meet the killing dawn. Just like their two brothers before him. He couldn't find it in him to feel true worry for his older brother anymore, though he desperately wanted to. _You should go to ground and stop thinking such depressing things. _Maxim commented.

_I cannot help it if the truth is depressing. _Taroh replied evenly.

_You have such a poet's heart, little brother. _Maxim said. Taroh felt the stirrings of amusement for a moment. He savored it as long as it lasted. Any feeling at all he would appreciate. _Now, go to ground. Jasmine is giving me a headache with her complaints about you._

Taroh smiled a bit. _Jasmine will always find something to complain over, brother._

_Nonetheless, you are causing her grief by exposing yourself to so much sunlight. You needn't give her a reason to fret about._

_Very well. _Taroh dissolved into a fine mist and streaked further inland, where the soil was richer. It was probably true, he spent more time in the sun than he really should have, but it wasn't the first time he'd done so either.

He could feel Jasmine's worry. Both for himself and for Maxim. The thought that she would have to watch all of her brothers fade away and then meet the dawn was strong in her mind. Once Maxim was gone, Taroh would be the only one of the Waldgrave brothers left. He knew it was impressive none of them had turned but none of them had found salvation either.

Taroh let out his breath as a long sigh before shutting his body down. The rich soil would replenish his energy and heal the burns he had endured through his own stubbornness. It was unfortunate that the earth could not replenish his heart and soul as well.


	2. Winning Isn't Everything

Taroh studied the checkered board carefully. He knew better than to underestimate his brother-in-law. Bennett was a hunter after all; his entire life was focused on strategy and battle. After a moment, he reached over and moved one of his white ivory pawns up a space. It would be taken, but it didn't matter.

Bennett only paused for a brief moment before the rook took the just-moved pawn. Taroh's knight took the rook only moments after Bennett resettled. This time the hunter took a much longer look at the board. Taroh's strategy was a little _too_ subtle for an artisan; he's clearly been practicing lately.

"Who's winning?" Jasmine asked as she came into the room, dark haired infant on her hip.

"That depends on your point of view, I suppose." Taroh said sitting back in his seat. He glanced over at his sister. Her green dress was dull to him and the trim was pure grey. He knew it wasn't supposed to be. "He has more pieces…but they are mostly pawns."

"And your brother has gotten close to my king twice already." Bennett added as he continued to study the board. After a minute Bennett leaned back with a sigh. "You've gotten much better at this, Taroh."

Taroh shrugged. "I have little else to do during the night."

Jasmine frowned as she sat down on the armrest of Bennett's chair. "You should move in with us, Taroh…I don't like you being on your own like this." She said bouncing the baby lightly.

"I am hardly in danger, sister. Besides, I do not wish to impose on your life with your family." Taroh said nodding to Bennett. Jasmine frowned and looked as if she was about to protest but stopped herself. Or, more likely, Bennett stopped her. They made no indication of speaking mind to mind but Taroh knew they were.

Bennett moved one of his pawns across the checkers of the playing field. Taroh turned his attention back down to the board. He was being ringed in by shiny black pawns and Bennett had slowly moved his king into a more defensive position. After a minute of thought Taroh moved his knight again, claiming one of the pawns.

He glanced up in time to see his sister giving him a pitying look. Annoyance clamored in his mind but he pushed it away. He wanted to feel emotion but not that one. He didn't want to be annoyed at his sister. He gave her a slight smile and felt slightly fraudulent for it. "Do not worry about me so, sister. I'm not gone yet."

Jasmine gave the best responding smile she could. "I'm always going to worry, baby brother."

Bennett nodded in agreement as he moved one of his pawns. "She never stops." He muttered; they all heard it easily anyway. Taroh was able to find a small amount of humor but it was fleeting. Jasmine gave her lifemate a playful slap on the arm. Bennett laughed a little and pretended that the slap had actually hurt by rubbing the spot on his arm.

"Ignore him, Taroh." Jasmine ordered.

Taroh shrugged as he took one of the pawns his brother-in-law owned. "You have your own lives to worry over." Before Jasmine could voice her opinion of that statement Taroh continued. "How is Kara?"

Jasmine frowned at the sudden change in topic but answered the question anyway. "She is doing well. The healers are optimistic about her survival. The new formula seems to be working."

Taroh nodded. That was very good news. With so few children surviving every one was precious. And Kara being a girl was even more important to their kind's survival. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't really have much personal opinion on the girl. He didn't…_feel_ anything about her. He sighed, that was disheartening. He couldn't say it was sad because he wasn't. Not really.

Taroh reached over the board and moved his queen to one of the black squares. "Check mate." He said as he leaned back.

Bennett frowned and studied the board finding that it was indeed check mate. Jasmine looked over at her brother sadly. Normally he would be very proud of himself for besting a hunter in a game of strategy. But Taroh just sat there with a blank look, as if they hadn't played at all.

Taroh sighed a bit and got to his feet. He didn't have much time left in the night to get back to his own home. _Aren't you going to say anything about winning? _Jasmine asked carefully. She didn't want to bring too much attention to Taroh's lack of interest.

_It is only a game, sister._


	3. The Coldest Color

Taroh was reading in his study when he was quite suddenly swamped with happiness. The book fell from his hands as Taroh looked up in surprise. All of the colors around him were suddenly bursting with vibrancy. The red in the area rug was like rubies against the rich chocolate of the wooden floor.

It took a minute but he soon realized where the strong emotion was coming from. Jasmine, bless her soul, was sharing her own emotions with him, just as she had done with Maxim before him. She had only been fifty when Maxim lost his emotions but she had shared hers until it became entirely too obvious it wasn't helping anymore. And now she was doing it for him as well.

Taroh looked around his study and marveled at the restoration of colors. He allowed himself to be carried away by his sister's joy until its effects wore off and colors faded again. It would never be permanent. _Why are you so happy, sister? _He asked as he retrieved his book. The cover was again grey with a tinting of brown around the edges of the worn leather.

_Kara! She stood on her own! _Jasmine said in delight.

_That's…wonderful. _He said as he tried to recall enough of the feeling to make his words meaningful. He truly wanted to be happy for his sister and for his niece, but it was difficult.

If Jasmine noticed the hesitation she tactfully ignored it. _Oh Taroh, it won't be long now before she's running and playing in the garden…it makes me feel downright old! _She said before laughing at herself.

A smile crept onto his face. He truly did love his sister and luckily he could still feel it. Barely. _I would wait to make that statement until after Kara has her own lifemate and has left your home entirely._

She laughed again, carefree and joyful. _You're right! Then I really will be old!_

Taroh reminded himself that he was supposed to find the comment funny and forced a small laugh. Perhaps the more he tried the longer it would take. It wasn't as if he had much else to do, and it would make his sister feel better at least. _Think of how old Bennett must feel. He is several centuries older than you._

_Bennett's already bemoaning the fact that he'll have to fight off every male in the world to give Kara a moment's peace. He's going to be one of those overprotective fathers, I just know it. _Jasmine's voice was fully of love and adoration.

_As he should be. And I am certain if he needs assistance myself and Maxim will be more than happy to oblige. _Taroh said. Suddenly it dawned on him that mentioning Maxim was perhaps not the cleverest thing to do right then.

As if to prove him right Jasmine instantly latched onto their brother's name. _You know Maxim is having a hard time right now. You should try visiting him._

Taroh sighed. _Sister, Maxim does not wish to see us. He has sent word to me that he's signing all of his estates over to either you or myself. He is going to chose the dawn and soon. Do not try to talk him out of it either, Jasmine. It is difficult to live as long as he has without something to hold onto. _

_He has us! _Jasmine argued. _We could help him until he finds his lifemate!_

_Perhaps…but what if he cannot find her? Maxim is trying to maintain his honor, Jasmine. The longer he lingers here the more likely he is to turn, to become the undead. Do you wish to endanger his soul in such a way?_

_Of course not! But….I cannot just sit by while it happens all over again! Maxim is strong! He can hold on longer if he chooses._

_Can he? _Taroh asked curiously. Honestly he had no idea himself. Already the bleakness of grey was starting to wear on Taroh and it had not taken him over completely yet. Maxim has faced a harsh cold world for a thousand years. It was unfathomable to the younger Carpathian. But he knew that his opinion of what someone could withstand was drastically and quite suddenly changing. _I am not so sure, sister. Only Maxim can decide if that is so. But please, do not mourn for him or resent his decision._

_I will always mourn for my brothers lost. _Came her haughty reply.

Taroh looked down at the area rug that had been so vibrant a few moments ago. Specks of red and gold shone through shades of grey. _It is such a cold thing grey. You would never think it…blue always seemed colder. But I think grey is the most heartless of all the colors of this world._

There was a long silence and Taroh began to wonder if his sister had, for once, let him have the last word. Finally a soft voice answered him. _He can last if he tries… _She repeated.


	4. Whisper

**I'm impressed I've managed to write so many of these. I only had two or so in mind when I posted the first one and now I'm up to four. Don't you just love it when you get hit with masses of inspiration. Anyway Review if you like these, I'd appreciate some feedback. My own opinion of these is a bit...shall we say biased?**

* * *

**  
**

It was early in the evening for a Carpathian, only a little ways past eleven, and already the majority of humans had cleared the streets. But that wasn't a major issue. Thugs often stayed out far later than most people and Taroh wouldn't have to worry about hunting them. They were only out to hurt innocents anyway.

A mental call brought one man from a local gang sauntering down an alley where Taroh was waiting for him. A large tattoo of some sort of female demon was sprawled across the man's bicep, wantonly beckoning with her long nails. Taroh sighed a bit; it was such a vulgar image. He would never imagine creating something like it.

Taroh grabbed the man by the shirtfront; the thug didn't seem to notice. Fangs lengthened in Taroh's mouth as the sound of pumping blood reached his ears. There was a faint trace of cocaine in the man's system but it wouldn't affect Taroh.

His incisors sliced into the man's neck, letting blood flow easily into Taroh's mouth. With every drop the Carpathian could feel himself being replenished, in body at the very least. Crimson blood poured forth and the man quickly began to weaken from the loss.

Taroh noticed when the man began to have trouble standing and closed the wound on his neck. He should just drain him. Taroh dropped the man in shock. Where had that thought came from? It had sprung up so suddenly; he could hardly believe he had thought it.

The insidious words lingered in his mind, a whisper that would not go away. This new development was unsettling. And if Taroh was being completely honest the small amount of emotion he still clung to had morphed into fear at the whisper. The fear quickly faded and Taroh planted a believable story in the thug's mind before hurrying down the street.

He knew, in his heart and soul, that he had just realized the full evil of himself. The most dangerous enemy that any Carpathian male faced; the beast inside. The stain that would take away your very honor and soul if you allowed it to.

Taroh stopped at a large park for no real reason other than he no longer felt the need to move. Besides, moving would not remove him from the reach of the whisper. He inhaled a breath of crisp fall air before slowly releasing it. He hadn't liked hearing himself think in terms of murder. It simply wasn't in his nature. He was an artist, not a hunter. All Carpathian males were predators but he wasn't all together skilled at killing.

And yet, while he had that man at his mercy it would have been easy. Far too easy. All he would have had to do was feed for a bit longer and the man would have died from the blood loss. Killing should not be that easy, he thought. Never should it be so easy.

Reluctantly he reached for the one person he felt could reassure him after what had happened. _Jasmine. Are you well? _He wouldn't mention the incident, she would only worry about him and he didn't want that.

_Of course! I was just thinking I would have to contact you. You must have read my mind. I want you to visit us next week and don't you dare say no. I won't stand for it. You've been gone for an entire month and I worry about you._

A small smile, almost non-existent, flitted across his face. The lingering memory of the fear was swept away by his sister's loving voice. _If you are truly that worried about me I suppose I can stop by for a small while._

_If you don't I'll have Bennett drag you home. _She said with a huff. She would get her way just like she always seemed to. _Now, why did you contact me?_

Taroh paused while he considered his answer. He couldn't tell her the real reason but she would most likely see through a blatant lie. So he settled for telling her the closest version of the truth he could. _I simply longed to hear your voice, sister. You remind me that I am not one of father's statues._

_I am always here for you, little brother. _She whispered to him. He could tell she meant every word of it, especially since she had opened her mind to him and let him feel her emotions. Taroh sighed as his sister's emotions helped battle off the cold indifference that seemed to always creep up on him. _Never forget that, Taroh._

_My eyes may be failing, sister…but I assure you my memory is still as good as it ever was._


	5. Without A Craft

**Yay for reviews! Thank you so much people make me happy!**

* * *

**  
**

Taroh frowned at the half painted canvas in front of him. The charcoal lines showed a beautiful woman sitting by a large fountain with moonlight providing an ethereal glow to the image. But the paint failed to complete the image that he had once held so clearly in his mind.

He had been staring at this canvas for weeks on end and hadn't even so much as picked up his brush again. All he had managed to paint was the rocks that framed the fountain. He had struggled and managed to complete a section of sky near the corners but he was far from satisfied with it. With a sigh he turned away from the incomplete image.

There were several canvases in various states of completion around the small studio. He preferred being in a smaller area while he worked. The paints on the shelves were starting to dry out. He'd never had paint dry in their bottles before; he'd always used them up before that ever happened. But then again he'd never been at a loss at how to finish a painting before either.

He got up from his seat and started to the door. He glanced around as he reached the doorframe; once again nothing had changed in the room. He'd spent hours sitting in the room and he'd made no progress at all.

He turned the light off and shut the door firmly behind him as he left. Taroh barely looked back as he started down the hallway towards his study. The gallery was full of his family's works. Statues of marble that his father had labored hours over until they were perfect. Paintings of exquisite quality and detail, their wooden frames carved by Taroh's oldest brother now gone.

Even the hallway itself was a work of art. Stained glass windows captured the light of the moon and tinted it hundreds of different shades of grey. _No, different **colors**. _He corrected himself. The floor had a mosaic of different marbles and stone creating an intricate and ancient safeguard around the gallery. The ceiling was arched and ribbed, the different sections painted with wonderful frescos.

Taroh stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked around carefully. He saw all of the hidden safeguards that had been woven into every work of art his family had crafted. The Waldgraves were famous for their ability with safeguards. This was just one of many galleries that his family had accumulated over the years.

The sight of so many different safeguards woven into such finely crafted works soothed his frustration. If it could even be called frustration anymore. As a child he loved to wander the galleries. Maxim had taken him to each of them in turn, showing him all the different crafts that his family had taken up before him. Maxim himself had done most of the windows in the galleries and in many of their homes as well.

Taroh took a few steps closer to his favorite painting in the gallery. His mother had painted it before she died. A lovely mountain scene with a waterfall and mist rolling off of a cold mountain lake. Even knowing where they were and what they looked like he found it difficult to see the safeguards she had painted into the swirling mists and bubbling water. His mother had only ever painted landscapes but not a single one ever looked the same.

He tried desperately to remember what he used to feel when looking at the last painting his mother made. After a moment he gave up and turned away. The multicolored marble floors echoed his footsteps; he made no effort to be silent. He could tell that there was not another soul for miles.

_That is of course assuming **I** have a soul now that my craft has gone…_He thought sourly. He couldn't help but be a bit disgusted with himself. Why was it so difficult to do what he had been born to do? He knew that the color issue was part of it but it shouldn't be this difficult. He couldn't even work up the ability to pick up a brush to _try_ and paint again.

He shook his head slightly and continued towards his study. Maybe some of the poems one of his ancestors wrote would help. He doubted it but at least with books he could forget for a short while that colors were turning so grey. In the back of his mind he couldn't rid himself of the thought that it was utterly pointless. Taroh sighed. _Self-loathing would just have to be the last thing to fade…_ he thought as he closed the gallery door.


	6. Pain

**This one's a little bit more mature than the others because it deals with mentions of torture but I don't think it's quite bad enough to up to an M rating. Correct me if you feel otherwise.**

He woke to utter horror. Screaming filled his mind and despite the sun being at its peak he clawed frantically at the soil around him. He couldn't breath for the terror was so thick and heavy. _Maxim! Maxim something's wrong!_ He reached frantically for his brother. His brother, so sure and calm in every situation was a haze of red rage.

_They are attacking! _He hissed in Taroh's mind.

Confusion mixed with Taroh's fear creating a dangerous combination. _I don't understand! What's going on? _Dots of ruby red appeared on his skin as he tried desperately to reach some semblance of control over himself. But it was no use; he was utterly terrified. He'd never felt such all-consuming fear.

_The human butchers! They are attacking Jasmine! _

Another wave of fear swamped Taroh completely. In the back of his mind he could tell that he was picking up most of this from his dear sister but that didn't stop it from making him panicked.

Screaming filled his mind. Pain. So much pain it brought twin streams of red to his eyes. Taroh thought he just might roll over and die from the horror of it all. It lasted an agonizingly long time and still Taroh lay locked to the ground, bleeding his sorrow and fear through his pores.

He tried to connect to Jasmine, to console her, but she was beyond his reach. Then the pain came again. This was so different from the last. He could feel his flesh being torn apart by the knife. His legs and arms and torso seemed to shred with agonizing slowness. He screamed his agony as the knife dug deep into his leg and twisted. Flames licked at his skin, charring it. A brand of some sort dug into his stomach, searing a cross into his flesh and pulling as it was removed. He screamed again and again. He could vaguely hear Maxim trying to sever the connection that Taroh and Jasmine shared but it was distant.

It felt like a knife dug into the joints of his fingers, popping them all out of place with utter horrible slowness. Heavy hands wrapped around his arms and legs, bruising his ripped flesh. And then, such un-godly pain ripped through him. It seemed to tear him right down the middle. He could feel Jasmine's soul crushing agony. It seemed to last forever.

A hand wrapped around their throats, choking the life from them as something was stuffed in their mouths. Then searing pain ripped through his throat, cutting straight across both arteries. Pain slammed into his chest and he could almost _feel _his heart exploding. And then it was utter darkness. The memory of pain and horror however stayed with him.

It was so much pain. Such soul rending agony that Taroh faded off into unconsciousness. His brother's call awakened him some time later. The sun had moved in the sky, it was almost low enough for him to rise. His bones and head ached with his sister's last moments. He knew in his heart that she was gone. Those human monsters had raped and murdered her.

Blood red tears fell down his cheeks unchecked. She did not deserve such a horrific fate. He knew the instant that the sun was low enough. He burst from the ground and raced to his sister's home. He knew it was fruitless but still he went. If there was even the slightest chance…

The mansion was a smoldering pile of rubble. But Taroh barely paid it any attention. He searched through the timbers and stones, tossing them aside with no care if anyone saw his display of inhuman strength. Moving a particularly large boulder, which had been their family crest, he found Kara's tiny body, crushed and surrounded by the remains of her crib.

Taroh fell to his knees. Every shred of hope vanished as he touched her icy cold body with his fingertips. He threw his head back and screamed his anguish. The shreds of emotion he had left were clamoring together in utter pain and torment. The murders had taken every shred of hope at redemption he'd had. His beloved sister…her life mate and now his niece.

The storm built to frightening levels. Fueled by his loss. Lightening slammed to earth, lighting the remains of the house on fire around him. Not so much a move to protect his people, but a move to try and wipe the horror from his mind. To forget what had happened here.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Taroh swung around to cling to Maxim. His older brother was like a rock but he was the only family Taroh had left. The rain poured down around them, washing the bloody trails from Taroh's face. "They will pay." Maxim hissed to his brother.


	7. Confusion

He woke up with rage and anguish. A curious ripping in the region of his heart. It faded and then pulsed with quivering strength. _Taroh? What is the matter? _He froze instantly. His chest ached at the sound of his sister's voice in his mind. It wasn't possible…he'd felt her die. _Taroh, what's the matter? _Jasmine's sweet voice held a hint of alarm.

Taroh closed his eyes as he reminded himself of every slash and burn he had felt before she died. His mind was playing tricks on him; making his wish to hear her comforting voice come to life. _Taroh! _Anguish rose in him mixed with confusion. Her voice. It sounded so real.

He reached up and grabbed his head as pain erupted in his temples. This didn't make sense. He'd _felt _her _die. _And yet she spoke to him so clearly it seemed too real to him.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and his eyes snapped open to see Bennett's face staring down at him with worry in his dark eyes. "What is the matter, little brother? We can feel your pain and you are worrying Jasmine."

Taroh leapt back. This had to be an illusion. A trick that some malevolent creature was using to try and harm him. "Who are you?" Taroh growled, eyes flashing red fire as he tried to see through the illusion of his brother-in-law.

Bennett took a cautious step back. "Taroh…I am Bennett, lifemate to your sister Jasmine. I have known you for years." His voice was utter purity. Beguiling black magic.

Taroh shook his head dislodging the soothing voice. He knew all too well that vampires could make their voices seem like angels when in fact they were nothing but demons. "You're dead." Taroh stated in a low growl. He wouldn't let this imposter distract him from the truth.

"I assure you I am very much alive, little brother." Bennett said calmly. There was something very wrong going on here. He could sense the waves of pain and confusion radiating off of Taroh.

"I felt you die!" Taroh snapped.

Bennett held up his hands in a sign of peace. "Taroh, whatever has happened I assure you that we will find out and help you. However you must trust me."

Taroh's confidence wavered for a moment. "Even the foulest vampire can seem pure." He growled after a second of thought.

"But how would he get past the safeguards, Taroh?" Bennett asked softly. He was hoping that Taroh would come to his senses and realize that no betrayer of their people would be able to fight his way through so many safeguards, at least not without Taroh noticing.

Taroh paused his mind reeling with confusion. What this Bennett imposter said made sense. No vampire could enter his home so easily. There were too many safeguards around the grounds to deal with; they were ingrained in the very architecture of the building. And yet at the same time…he had _felt _them die. His link with his sister had been strong and he was utterly confident that he had felt everything the way it had happened. It made no sense.

Jasmine's soft voice filled his mind. Easing the pain that shot through his skull. _Listen to us, baby brother. We will help you…trust me. _The voice, so much like his sister's, calmed him. Slowly Taroh's defenses slipped and he let the gentle voice into his mind more fully.

She could feel it. The utter certainty that she had been murdered while Taroh had been helpless to do anything about it. She felt the horrible agony of torture that he believed they had endured. It was so real, so clear in his mind; it had to have been placed there by someone else. Jasmine sent the impression of wrapping her arms around him. _It's not true, baby brother. I swear we are fine._

Taroh's confusion spiked but that sweet voice, one of pure light and goodness, it took away his doubts. He slumped against the wall of the chamber. What was going on?

* * *

**I'm not so predictable that I'd kill her off like that...uh...April fools? heh...bye for now.**


	8. Weary

Taroh lay on the chaise lounge in his library, eyes closed and book barely held in his hand that hung off the side. He was exhausted. Dark circles had developed under his eyes and creases of strain were etched into his face. Every night he was plagued by visions of his sister's death. The method would change but it always resulted in the horrible finality of death. Sometimes humans killed them, sometimes a vampire, and sometimes it was the sun itself but every time Taroh felt it as if he himself had endured it.

A Carpathian's rest was supposed to be void of dreams and yet he could not seem to escape them. Someone was tormenting him and the visions, combined with his ever-decreasing ability to see color and feel emotions, we wearing him down quickly.

"It is a vampire." Bennett said. "You know this."

Taroh sighed and nodded in agreement. It was the only explanation. Somehow a vampire had gotten close enough to plant disturbing visions in his mind, even despite the death-like sleep of their people. "He seeks to turn you. Gregori has agreed to come and find a way to stop his attacks on your mind." Bennett continued. Taroh didn't have to open his eyes to know that his brother-in-law was staring at him worriedly.

"You are tired brother." Jasmine said putting a hand on Taroh's shoulder.

"The vampire does not allow me rest." He didn't need to explain. Jasmine and Bennett had seen enough of the hallucinations to know that themselves. Jasmine had insisted that she and Bennett move into the Waldgrave ancestral home with Taroh after the second time they had to convince the younger male that his memories of pain and death were not real. The visions were so numerous and vivid that Taroh's mind was starting to fray under them.

Silence filled the room and Taroh took the opportunity to try and rest in the way of humans. He was jerked awake by his sister's shout of "No!"

Taroh looked over wearily. Jasmine looked angry, annoyed, and vaguely frightened as she glared at her lifemate. Apparently they had had a disagreement of some sort. "What's going on?" He asked rubbing his tired eyes.

"Nothing, Taroh. You should try to rest." Jasmine said though she continued to glare at her lifemate.

Taroh sighed. "Perhaps you two should return to your own home. I do not wish to cause arguments."

Jasmine looked over at her brother sadly. She hated seeing him like this. He wasn't a hunter; his skill was to make things of beauty not to fight vampires. She couldn't fathom why a vampire would attack him in such a way. "You are not causing any arguments brother." She assured him. "Bennett was just being his usual, stubborn self."

Bennett gave her a disapproving look. _It makes sense, Jasmine. _He told her on their private path. _Few have exchanged blood with Taroh enough times to slip images such as these into his mind without his knowledge._

_Maxim has not turned! _Jasmine snapped. _Me and Taroh would have sensed it._

_Do not underestimate a vampire's cunning, Dearest. _Bennett warned. _Few would seek to turn one as young as your brother unless he had a personal connection to him. As you so often stated, your brother is no hunter._

_And neither is Maxim. He doesn't have the ability to do such a thing to Taroh._

Bennett frowned but let the conversation fall away before it became another argument. He glanced over at his brother-in-law. Taroh was being tormented daily and his resolve could only last so long. He could only hope that Gregori would be able to stop the visions. He did not wish to have to hunt his lifemate's beloved younger brother.

* * *

**Huh, I'm actually developing a bit of a story line here...strange that...**


End file.
